


It Runs in the Family

by Burgie



Category: Star Stable Online
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 09:46:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13679214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Burgie/pseuds/Burgie
Summary: The Hermit sits down with Thomas to talk about Justin's battle with darkness.





	It Runs in the Family

The Hermit looked up from his carrot patch as he heard the distinctive sound of a pony’s whinny.

“Cinnamon? What is it?” asked the Hermit, getting to his creaky old knees and grimacing as they popped like gunshots. He was getting old, no doubt about it. But he had his cane nearby, and leaned on it as he hobbled over to his flaxen chestnut Welsh pony. She was looking up the hill from her pen by his house, her ears pricked. She could have quite easily walked up the hill, but this obviously wasn’t a threat because she merely stayed where she was.

The voices reached the Hermit next, and he smiled. It had been far too long since he’d seen his relatives from the mainland.

“Thomas, Justin! Hello!” he called, raising a hand to hail them. Thomas smiled and waved as he carefully made his way down the hill, being careful not to slip on the grass. But Justin didn’t smile, he just carefully made his way down the hill with his father, gripping onto rocks whenever he felt himself begin to slide.

“Hey there, old friend, long time, no see, huh?” said Thomas with a smile once he reached the bottom of the hill. He firmly grasped the Hermit’s hand and shook it, a smile in his eyes, while Justin walked silently over to the beach. He didn’t even look at the ponies, just went and sat down at the edge of the sand.

“Yes, it has been a while,” said the Hermit, nodding. “Is, ah, all well at the stables?”

“Oh, yes, it’s been going brilliantly there,” said Thomas, his face lighting up. Though, only for a moment as his eyes found his son. At the sight of Justin, sitting so alone and so desolate on the edge of the sand, Thomas’ face fell and he gave a sigh.

“And what of your son?” asked the Hermit. Thomas shook his head, rubbing the back of his head anxiously.

“He’s just been through a pretty rough ordeal, actually,” said Thomas, looking down at his feet. He looked back at the Hermit, though, his face serious.

“Come inside,” said the Hermit, walking over to his cottage.

“A-are you sure we should leave him out here like this?” asked Thomas, glancing back at Justin. He held his hat in his hands, squeezing it in his worry. “He’s so down, I’m worried that he might…”

“Trust me, if that boy tries anything, Cinnamon will jump into the water and drag him back out,” said the Hermit. He stopped at his horse, who stood with her neck out over the railing. “Won’t you, girl?” She nickered as he rubbed her cheek.

“Anyone else would think that you were just saying that,” said Thomas with a chuckle. “But I know better. The Welsh ponies of South Hoof are definitely more than meets the eye.”

“That they are,” said the Hermit with a nod. He opened the door of his cottage before heading inside. “Your sister is not here today, don’t worry, Tommy, she’s rather busy at the moment and can’t sneak away to see me.”

“That’s probably for the best,” said Thomas, following the Hermit inside and hanging his hat on the hat rack after closing the door behind him. He removed his coat, too, hanging it on the coat rack below his hat.

“Now, what is troubling that son of yours?” asked the Hermit as he busied himself with filling the tea kettle with leaves and water. He set it on the burner, then stood by it while he waited for it to come to a boil.

“Straight to the point, huh?” said Thomas with a laugh, shaking his head. But his face remained sad as he took a seat at the kitchen table and immediately reached for the sugar bowl. “My… my father brainwashed him and he… kept Justin at the oil rig for a very long time.”

“Ah,” said the Hermit, and looked at Thomas with concern glimmering in his brown gaze. “And you believe that this has led to his current state?”

“Well, he certainly wasn’t like this before he went there,” said Thomas. “He was always so happy and cheerful before, but since he came back, he’s just been… different.”

“Darker?” asked the Hermit, taking the boiling kettle off of the burner and pouring out two steaming cups of tea. He brought out a spoon, knowing how Tommy liked his tea sweet, and sat at the table with the two cups, placing one in front of his brother-in-law.

“Yes,” said Thomas, nodding and looking up at him. “And since you know a bit about having children with unique abilities, I was wondering if maybe you might know if this is a normal human thing like depression, which is horrible but…”

“It’s better than the alternative, yes,” said the Hermit, nodding. “Now, I only have one son, and he has never struggled with the darkness within him. His mother, however…”

“Really?” asked Thomas, meeting the Hermit’s steady gaze. The Hermit nodded.

“She often laments the fact that she cannot simply be with me,” said the Hermit. “She hates that she has to hide, and that her very nature causes her children to be in constant danger. Well, her child and his family, anyway.” He took a long sip of his tea as a thoughtful silence descended.

“I struggle with it too, sometimes,” said Thomas into his cup, breaking the silence. The Hermit nodded, urging him to continue. “The fact that I have cursed my son by passing this power on to him… he says that he doesn’t have it, that my father found no magic in him, but I know.” He looked pleadingly at the Hermit. “I know that I’ve cursed him and any future children he might have, I know because I’ve seen that the magic does get passed on from generation to generation, no matter how diluted it becomes. Even young Madison has demonstrated some magical ability.”

“His power may have dark origins, that is true,” said the Hermit. “But just look at my son, my great granddaughter- Jonas speaks to the ocean, without using any of the darkness within him, and Madison only talks to horses and understands them. Much to her father’s utter delight.” His lips quirked into a slight smile as he remembered how annoyed Erik had been when he’d revealed that tidbit of information to his grandson. “Justin’s powers may not even manifest, but when they do, they will not necessarily be dark. He is a good person, deep down.”

“And what if they are?” asked Thomas, meeting his gaze again. “Mine are.” Shadows pooled in his hand.

“And do you use those powers for evil?” asked the Hermit. Thomas looked down, dispelling the shadows back to the corners of the room from whence they had come.

“No,” said Thomas. “I barely use them at all, unless I’m hiding something. I tried to hide the stables from GED that way but.” He shrugged. “And then, of course, there is my sister. She uses her compulsion powers to get into parties or to get men to sleep with her.”

“You have just demonstrated that dark powers do not necessarily equal a dark destiny,” said the Hermit, taking a sip of his tea. “You control your powers and choose how to use them, nobody else does.”

“My father used to,” said Thomas, looking back into his tea. He’d barely touched it. 

“Yes, but not anymore,” said the Hermit. “Tommy, you escaped from your father’s clutches, as did your son.”

“I know,” said Thomas. “And I’m truly grateful for that, even if I could have prevented it. If only I’d warned him…”

“It’s far too late for what if’s and if only’s now, Tommy,” said the Hermit. “That horse, as the saying goes, has bolted. But right now, you need to be there for your son. It’s not too late to guide him.”

“But how am I supposed to guide him?” asked Thomas, looking back up at him. “How can I guide him out of this dark pit of despair that he’s fallen into? It kills me that I worry every time I leave him alone. He’s barely eating or sleeping, he used to be a social butterfly but not anymore, all he does is sit by the ocean. And I worry that he’s communing with Garnok, that somehow, through magic or some other dark means, my father has established a link between them. It sounds ridiculous when I say it like that.” The Hermit was silent while Thomas looked at him with tears in his eyes.

“That may be the case,” said the Hermit after mulling it over. “But it may not be. It may simply be that your son is struggling with learning about his grandfather’s true nature. I know that I struggled when I learned what Jessica really was, but I love her too much to let that stand in the way.”

“I guess it doesn’t help that he’s the only extended family Justin’s ever known,” said Thomas. “That’s my fault, too. It’s such a mess, and it’s all my fault.” He put his elbows on the table, running his fingers through his hair. “I ruined everything.” The Hermit grabbed his cane and whacked Thomas on the head as gently yet firmly as he could.

“Now, you stop that,” said the Hermit, frowning at him as Thomas rubbed his head. “Self-loathing is not going to change or fix anything, it’ll only make your son and yourself feel worse. You need to be there for your son.”

“And I’m trying,” said Thomas, his voice cracking. “I really am, but there’s nobody to blame here but myself. I created that weakness, I wasn’t careful enough, I was so busy trying to keep Justin away from his family that I never even considered what kind of an impact that must be having on him.”

“Thomas, you’ll be no help to your son if you can’t get over it,” said the Hermit. “Yes, you may have made some mistakes, but you had good intentions. And now, with the knowledge that your father knows about his grandson, you can better protect him.”

“But how?” asked Thomas. “My father will stop at nothing to get him, I know he will.”

“You introduce Justin to the rest of his family,” said the Hermit. “Love him. Support him. Remind him of what makes him truly happy, and lead him out of that darkness. Perhaps talking to someone will help too, in which case, my door is always open.”

“Unless there’s a wet shirt on the doorstep, I remember,” said Thomas. The Hermit nodded.

“There may not be anyone else in Justin’s unique position, but I can promise you that there are people who are willing to listen and will at least try to help,” said the Hermit. “Try that old witch Pi, I heard that she was recently reformed. Perhaps she might have some tips for helping to deal with the knowledge that he has once done terrible things.”

“I dunno, a witch?” asked Thomas. The Hermit gave him a stern look.

“In order to help your son, you must embrace the magical nature of this island,” said the Hermit. “For heaven’s sake, Tommy, you should know better than anyone that magic exists. Knowledge is power, especially in this case.” Thomas sighed, finally picking up his mostly-cold tea and drinking it.

“You’re right,” said Thomas, looking at the Hermit again. “I need to learn from my mistakes.”

“Good,” said the Hermit, nodding and slowly getting to his feet. “Now, let’s go outside and make sure that your son is still with us.”


End file.
